Puppet on a String
by Purupuss
Summary: Something daft that I thought of while at work. Complete


This story is quite a bit different from my "Blind Ambition" chronicles. For one thing it's a lot shorter! 

Thanks to my friend Mad Friend, who isn't quite as mad as she makes out, for proof reading this story and helping to improve it.

As always, and as we all know, I do not own any of these characters, or International Rescue, or Thunderbirds. I can but dream...

Enjoy

Purupuss.

**Puppet on a String**

John Tracy stood in the middle of all the devastation and looked skywards. He could dimly make out moving shapes and, not for the first time, wondered just what was up there in that impenetrable blackness.

Philosophising over, he surveyed the scene about him.

They'd finished their latest rescue. International Rescue had only to pack their equipment away, and then they could leave the locals to their clean up.

John ran his fingers of his right hand through his hair as he thought this.At the same moment he flew up into the air, spun alarmingly and then came back to earth, seemingly unaffected by this strange event. 

"Well that was graceful," Gordon said laconically. "What was that in aid of?"

"Dunno," John said trying to lower his hand. "I think someone sneezed." He continued trying to extract his fingers from his hair.

"What are you doing?" Alan asked. "Give us a hand."

"I will," John said a trifle testily as he tugged at his head. "I – just – can't – lower – my – arm. I think the strings are tangled."

Scott wandered over to his younger brother, looking above his head as he did so. "Yeah. They are. Try spinning back the other way."

John thought for a moment, trying to remember which way he'd been spun about the first time. Then he slowly turned in a clockwise motion.

Movement was becoming more tricky as the strings became tighter and he still wasn't able to get his arm into a more comfortable position. "Maybe I'm going the wrong way." He reversed his course.

Virgil came over to see what his brothers were doing. "Is this some kind of new dance you've invented, John?"

"No it's not!"

"Not working either," Alan noted.

"Stand still and lets have a look," Scott ordered. He gave a low whistle as he examined the strings above John's head. "You've got yourself into a right tangle."

"Well, untangle me!"

"Gordon stand here." Scott led the redhead to his side so he could compare the arrangement of strings that ran up into the air from his two brothers bodies. "Okay, the one from your right ear should go up this way..."

"Instead it goes around the one from his hand and back between the solenoid line and his left leg's string," Alan said.

"I don't need a full description," John snapped. "Just fix me up!"

His four brothers spent the next five minutes trying to untangle him, without tangling their own wires as they worked closely together.

"Move your left arm, John..."

"No don't do that! I've nearly got this knee string sorted..."

"Lift your left leg..."

"Let's untangle this temple wire..."

"Lift your right leg..."

"I can't lift them both, I'll fall over!" John said in exasperation. "And Virgil will you stop humming that infernal song in my ear."

Virgil stopped working on one of John's head wires. "I thought it was appropriate," he said.

"You know I can't stand 'Puppet on a String'."

"You only say that you don't like it because you know G.A. doesn't like it. And, because he also doesn't like you, you're trying to get into his good books," Virgil told him.

"No. I just don't like it, period. Hum something else."

Virgil started humming.

"But not that!"

"Don't you like ABBA songs?"

"'I'm a Marionette' is not exactly tactful at this point."

Virgil grinned at his brothers. "Any requests?"

"Yeah. Go somewhere else. We've got too many people working here," Scott suggested.

"Fine." Virgil pretended to be affronted. "If you don't appreciate my abilities, I'll sit over here and watch you four make fools of yourselves." He sat down in Mobile Control's command seat and watched his brothers in amusement.

They struggled on for another five minutes, before falling back to look at John who, if anything, was in an even worse mess.

"I know!" Alan disappeared for a moment.

"What does he know?" Scott asked.

"Maybe how to train alligators?" Gordon stated facetiously. "It can't be a solution to John's problem."

"If anyone's interested, I have an idea..." Virgil started.

"Stand back!" Alan had reappeared carrying an item of kit. A blue light shot from the end of the laser and John crumpled to the ground.

"Thanks, Alan," he muttered darkly into his knee. "Now what am I supposed to do?"

"Well you don't have a problem with your tangled strings now."

Scott glared at the youngest Tracy. "He's got nothing to support himself with now either."

"And you've fused some of the wires together." Gordon was examining the severed ends of John's strings.

"Brilliant!" was the muffled comment from the heap on the ground.

"I did have a more, ah, practical solution," Virgil told everyone. "But you didn't want to listen to me."

John groaned. "Just do something will you."

Alan was unperturbed by the change in John's circumstances. "We'll just tie his strings together again."

"And they'll be a couple of inches shorter and his feet won't touch the ground," Scott told him.

"Oh." Alan's face fell. "I didn't think of that."

Gordon was fossiking through the first aid kit. "Here's some replacement wire."

"What thickness?" Scott asked.

"0.003 inches." Gordon was examining the label on the spool.

"Too thin. It'll never support him..."

"It will for his arms," Virgil interrupted.

Gordon tossed the spool to him. "What about..." he held up a second spool, "0.005 inches."

"That'll do."

"Oh, goody," John muttered into the blue material of his trousers.

They spent the next 20 minutes connecting the wire strings that were still connected to John, to those that had been dangling uselessly above him.

At last he was standing.

His brothers stood back and examined their handiwork.His head lolled drunkenly to one side. His left shoulder was hunched up to his ear. His right leg was bent so his foot sat lightly in the air. 

"I think I was more comfortable when I was on the ground," he moaned.

His brothers looked at him in interest. "Say that again, John," Alan requested.

"Why? Aren't your ears working?" John watched as smiles appeared on his brothers faces. "What are you lot smiling at?"

"I didn't realise ventriloquism was one of your talents." Gordon teased.

"Huh?"

"Your lips aren't moving," Scott informed him.

"Huh?" John repeated, the muscles in his face immobile.

"All you need is a dummy," Gordon grinned impishly. "Alan, help him out will you?"

Alan scowled at his brother.

"It's not surprising really," Virgil stated. "We haven't used the right type of wire to his solenoid. It can't receive the signals telling his mouth to move."

"You can still hear me talk though can't you," John asked, his lips firmly stuck together.

"Yes." They all nodded.

"Then... GET ME HOME! Brains can fix me up properly."

Scott stepped back so he was slightly behind John and extended his hand in an expressive gesture. "There's Thunderbird Two. You climb aboard and we'll join you when we've finished our business here."

"Just as soon as I've finished some business of my own." John's eyes were fixed on Alan.

"Ooof!"

Three Tracys looked at Scott in surprise.

"John..." he gasped, "why... did... you... elbow... me?"

"I didn't," John protested. "I was trying to grab Alan. Like this."

"Ooof," Scott repeated as John's elbow once again connected with his solar plexus. He took a precautionary step backwards.

"Who fixed up his arm?" Gordon asked following the strings up towards the sky. "You've put them on back to front. If he tries to move his arm forward it's gonna go backwards."

"So I gathered," Scott said weakly as he moved somewhere safer, rubbing his bruised abdomen as he did so.

"If that's the only mistake, we've done well," Virgil said.

John rolled his head to look at Gordon. "I don't think it's the only mistake, Virgil."

"Why are you looking at me?" Gordon asked. "Virgil's over there."

"I was trying to look at him." John's head rolled in the other direction. "You've got my head wires mucked up too."

"Well, forget all that," Scott said. "Just get into Thunderbird Two. We'll worry about fixing you up properly when we're home."

John tried to take a step forward by moving his right leg. It swung in an ungainly fashion forward and then to the side. He tried to compensate by moving the left leg. It appeared to decide, of its own accord, to move off at an oblique angle. Once again he ended up in a crumpled heap on the ground. "I'm getting sick of this. Can't you guys give me a hand?" 

They solved the problem by picking him up and carrying him over to Thunderbird Two before dumping him unceremoniously on the floor of the pod. He lay there moaning, not in pain, but in frustration.

"You'll be all right there until we get home," Gordon told him as the door to the pod was raised up and the bright sunlight was blocked out.

"Thanks," John muttered darkly into his boot.

They'd been home for a few hours when a fully restored John finally made his appearance.

"Well," he said proudly, "what do you think?"

His family gaped at him. "How'd you get through the door without having to remove the lintel?" Alan asked in awe.

"Where's your strings?" Jeff was amazed at the transformation.

"Don't need them," John said, smiling. "Brains has come up with this new under floor arrangement."

"Your head's smaller," Mrs Tracy gasped.

"Yep. Brains shifted the solenoid to my chest. I don't need such a big head now."

"Impressive," Virgil said.

"It's certainly stiffened you up a lot," Scott commented.

"Why don't you see if Brains can do the same for you, Alan," Tin-Tin suggested.

"Yeah, Alan," Gordon grinned as Alan reddened slightly.

"Yeah, Alan," John echoed as he turned to his youngest brother. "Now, once I get my hands on you, you'll NEED your strings replaced."

Alan took a step backwards.

John took a step towards him and stopped with a jolt. Surprised he looked down at his feet. 

Or where his feet used to be.

He'd been travelling along a slot in the floor and suddenly realised that this severely restricted the directions he was able to move. "Brains!"

Jeff looked at John's predicament. "I don't know about this, Brains. I don't think that cutting a hole in the bottom of the space station is such a good idea."

"N-No, Mr Tracy. Y-You could be right," Brains said, his brow creased in thought..

"Well what are we going to do?" John asked anxiously. "Do you have to string me up again?"

"No... I, ah, could, um, m-make you human," Brains suggested. He didn't sound keen on the idea.

"Human?" John sounded impressed. "You mean with no strings? I could move anywhere? You can do that?"

"I-I believe so. It's known as the Frakes procedure."

"Hey. That'd be great," Virgil exclaimed. "Could you do that to me too? Once you've done John? Imagine not having to deal with unhooking my strings every time I slide down to Thunderbird Two!"

"If I'm first to have this done, and you're second..." John was grinning at Scott. "That'd make me oldest and you second oldest, Virgil."

"Now wait a minute!" Scott protested. "I want..."

"Yeah, Scotty, imagine that." Virgil leant on his brother's shoulder in a superior manner. "You'd get a chance to see what it's like to be the middle kid for a change."

The two youngest were quite enjoying the idea. "So you could make Alan closer to his mental age? Say 14?" Gordon queried.

"And you could change Gordon's hair colour, so no one could recognise him?" Alan riposted.

"Now wait a minute," Jeff growled. "What would people think if International Rescue suddenly turns up at rescues as humans?"

"They'd, um, they'd..." Alan tried to think of an answer and failed.

"They'd be appalled, that's what," Jeff said firmly. "They're expecting super-marionettes to help them out. And what would they get...?"

"A bunch of nobodies," Scott stated.

"Exactly." Jeff turned to Brains. "We'd be a mockery of our former selves. I don't want International Rescue turned into a laughing stock. A lot of people respect what we are, and I don't want us to lose that respect. I think we should all maintain our strings! Anyone disagree?"

No one did.

If anything, Brains looked relieved at his employer's suggestion. "I-If I may say, sir. I-I agree wholeheartedly."

"Good." Jeff returned to his desk. "String John up again, Brains."

"Y-Yes, Mr Tracy."

_The end._


End file.
